


The Ties That Bind

by eternaleponine



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Clexa Week 2019, Disney World & Disneyland, F/F, Grief/Mourning, No Strings Attached
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-26
Updated: 2019-02-26
Packaged: 2019-11-06 04:56:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17933252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eternaleponine/pseuds/eternaleponine
Summary: A year ago, Lexa made a promise to her dying wife to go on the anniversary trip that they'd planned, even though they wouldn't be able to go together.  As she waits in the Single Rider line at Space Mountain, she finds herself drawn into conversation with another woman who is here on her own, whose story might be even more dramatic than Lexa's, and who makes Lexa feel things she hasn't felt in a long time.Neither of them is ready to start anything new, but after a few drinks, how can she say no to a no strings attached rendezvous?





	The Ties That Bind

"I thought the single rider line was supposed to move faster," the woman in front of Lexa grumbled. "It feels like we haven't moved in ten minutes."

It was an exaggeration, but only a slight one. It _did_ feel like they'd been standing in the same place for a while. "To be fair," Lexa said, "we can't see from here how fast the regular line is moving." 

The woman turned to look at her, and even in the incredibly dim lighting they were trapped in, Lexa could see that she was beautiful. And kind of adorable, with little scowl lines forming between her eyebrows, but Lexa squashed that observation, and the little tickle of warmth it kindled just below her heart, and the little worm of guilt that chased it. After a second, the lines smoothed out, replaced by tiny crinkles at the corners of her eyes as she smiled. "I _guess_ ," she said, like a peevish child, and Lexa couldn't help laughing. "I'm Clarke," she said, extending her hand. 

"Lexa." She reached out and shook it. It felt like a strangely formal thing to do while standing in a queue at Disney World, but she wasn't just going to leave Clarke hanging. "Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you," Clarke echoed. She turned away, and Lexa thought that was it, the conversation was over, but it seemed she'd just been checking to see if the line had moved at all, because she turned around again a second later. "So," she asked, "what's your story?"

Lexa cocked her head. "My story?"

Clarke nodded. "Why are you in the single rider line?" 

"Oh!" Lexa felt a flash of relief. For a second, she'd thought Clarke was asking her why she was here alone instead of... but then she realized that _was_ what Clarke asking, or at least the answer was the same, and her chest tightened and the world shrunk around her like it had so often in the past eleven months, six days, and... She turned up her wrist to check how many minutes, only to remember that the band around it wasn't a watch.

Clarke's face split into a grin. "I keep doing that too!" she said. "I haven't worn a watch in _years_ , but every time I want to know what time it is, I check my wrist instead of my phone. I guess there really is such a thing as muscle memory." 

Lexa forced a smile. "I guess so," she said. She tugged at the plastic band around her wrist, which housed the little electronic device that got her into the parks, opened her hotel room door, allowed her to charge things back to her room, and would even capture any pictures taken of her while she was on rides that offered them... because those always caught people in the best light. If Costia was here, they could have laughed over them together. Without her, it was tempting to take the thing off and shove it in her pocket until she needed it again, although there was no guarantee that the chip inside wouldn't get read anyway. 

"Oh hey," Clarke said, edging forward a few steps. "Progress!" She barely took her eyes off Lexa as she moved, and Lexa forced herself to look back. It wasn't Clarke's fault that she'd jabbed a conversational finger into a slow-healing wound that had been torn back open by the onslaught of emails she'd received a few weeks ago, confirming the trip they'd booked a year ago when they still believed in miracles. She hadn't been able to bring herself to call and remove Costia from them. Hell, she hadn't even been able to leave Costia's stupid MagicBand at home.

* * *

_"Promise me," Costia whispered, her breath barely reaching Lexa's skin even though her head rested on Lexa's shoulder. They were at home, curled up together in their own bed, because short sleepovers were allowed when you were in hospice, as long as you were stable enough to be away from the doctors and nurses overnight. "Promise me you'll go."_

_"I promise," Lexa said, because by that point she was willing to promise Costia anything that she thought would offer her comfort or bring her peace... anything that would make it easier for her to let go. "It won't be the same without you."_

_"I know. But I'll be with you, always."_

_"I know."_

* * *

Lexa shook her head, forcing her eyes back into focus and unclenching white-knuckled fingers from around the railing. She stumbled forward another step, following Clarke's bright hair like a beacon, hoping she hadn't noticed her spacing out. 

She covered an involuntary snort with a cough. _No pun intended,_ she thought. 

"You all right?" Clarke asked, looking at her again. 

Lexa nodded. "Just a tickle," she said, gesturing at her throat. "Getting over a cold." Because it was a good excuse for her occasionally watery eyes and red nose. 

Clarke swung a small bag around from her hip to her front, unzipping it and rummaging through. "I might have a cough drop," she said. Before Lexa could tell her there was no need, she was fine, she pulled out a little plastic baggie and fished one out, brandishing it triumphantly at Lexa. "Here," she said. "Just don't choke on it on the ride." 

"Thanks," Lexa said. "Maybe I'll save it for after. Just in case." She slipped it into her pocket. 

Clarke shrugged and zipped everything up again. "So, you never answered the question," she said. 

"Neither did you," Lexa said, even though she hadn't asked a question. She really didn't want to get into it, and maybe if she could get Clarke talking, she wouldn't have to. Maybe whatever her own story was would carry them through to the front of the line, where they would almost certainly end up on different trains – or space ships, she supposed – and by the time she was done with the ride, Clarke would have disappeared into the park. After that, the likelihood of them running into each other again in a place this big was infinitesimal. 

Clarke lifted an eyebrow. "Oh, I see," she said, smirking. "You'll show me yours if I show you mine." She was polite enough not to laugh outright at the expression on Lexa's face, which Lexa couldn't see but could feel, and knew had to be somewhere between surprised and horrified, with maybe just a tiny dash of amused thrown in for flavor. "I'm here on my honeymoon."

Now Lexa was sure she just looked confused. "Your...?" She looked past Clarke, thinking somehow she'd missed Clarke's companion, but she didn't think the middle-aged man wearing socks with his sandals was a likely candidate. She certainly _hoped_ he wasn't. "Did your... husband not want to ride?" 

"Oh, he did," Clarke said. "A little too much, in fact. Turns out I wasn't his only fiancée."

It was a good thing Lexa had opted out of the cough drop or she might have choked. "Wait, _what_?"

"You heard me," Clarke said, and she was enjoying this a little too much. "We were planning to get married here. Set a date, put down a deposit, sent out the invitations... the whole nine. Then one day this woman shows up at our door, asks to speak to him but he's not home. I ask who she is so I can tell him she stopped by and she says she's his fiancée, and who the hell am I? I told her the same thing." Her shoulders lifted, then fell. "Needless to say, neither of us ended up marrying him. I canceled all of the actual wedding stuff, but when they asked if I wanted to cancel the park tickets and everything I decided, 'You know what? F—" She glanced around, realizing there were children everywhere. "Eff it. No, I don't want to cancel. I'm going to Disney World!" 

Lexa laughed, because she was pretty sure she was supposed to laugh, even though the story made her feel like the rollercoaster they were about to get on might pale in comparison to what Clarke had been through. She was able to joke about it now, but it might be a front she was putting up – an 'if you don't laugh, you'll cry' kind of thing. Even if it wasn't, it couldn't have been easy at the time. "Wow," she said. "That sounds like the kind of thing you read about in the tabloids."

"Right?" Clarke rolled her eyes and shook her head. "His loss. Both of us. Raven – that's the other woman, although I guess technically _I'm_ the other woman because she was with him first – is awesome. I actually considered for a minute giving his ticket to her but decided that would be just a little too awkward." 

"You think?" Lexa gestured for Clarke to go ahead of her again as the line moved. They were getting close to the front now; they might be on the ride within the next few minutes if there were enough single seats that needed filling.

Clarke seemed to notice this too, because she looked expectantly at Lexa. "So what about you?" she asked. 

Lexa shook her head. "I can't top that."

"You don't have to," Clarke said. "It's not a contest." 

"I know. I just..." Lexa sighed. "I'd rather not."

Clarke looked at her for a long moment, then gave a slight nod. "Okay," she said. She looked like she was going to say more, but then she was called up by one of the cast members and directed into the last seat on the next outbound flight to Space Mountain. She turned to wave to Lexa as the train jerked and pulled around the corner. Lexa lifted a hand to wave back, but it was too late. Clarke was already gone. 

Two more trains went through, filled with groups of twos and fours, before Lexa was finally called to fill in an empty seat. She climbed in and tugged down her safety bar, imagining Costia in the seat in front of her, craning around to flash her a grin before it was too dark to see each other. She told herself the dampness in her eyes was from the wind generated by the ride's motion. 

Herself told her she was a liar.

* * *

Clarke lingered in the gift shop after the ride, looking at all the space-themed merchandise, with a good sprinkling of Star Wars. Ironically, it made her think of Raven, who was an honest-to-god rocket scientist. How she'd ever ended up with a doofus like Finn was anyone's guess, although the same might be said for Clarke; she guessed he was just really good at playing out of his league. She kept glancing toward the tunnel where riders emerged, hoping that Lexa would appear so they could... what? Pick up their conversation where they'd left off? Lexa had made it clear that she didn't want to talk about why she was here alone. 

And for all Clarke knew, maybe she wasn't here alone. Maybe she was here with family, or friends, and she was just the only one who'd wanted to go on this ride. Maybe she'd just been being polite when she'd said she'd rather not talk about it. Maybe she'd actually meant, 'Okay, crazy, can you stop bugging me now?' 

But Lexa had started it. She'd been the one who'd spoken to Clarke first. It had just been an offhand comment, but that didn't change the fact that she'd initiated the conversation. On the other hand, Clarke had been the one to make it weird, spewing her personal problems – although they'd stopped being problems the minute she'd dumped Finn, along with all of his shit, on his ass on the front lawn – to a complete stranger. 

And now here she was, acting like a total creeper. Acting a little like Finn, if she was being honest, and that thought didn't sit well at all. She headed for the door without a backward glance, walking fast to put as much distance between herself and a potential awkward encounter as possible. 

There weren't any other rides at the Magic Kingdom with single rider lines, so Clarke found herself pressed between happy couples and cranky families (or sometimes cranky couples and happy families) in the regular line. She was sure she imagined the pitying looks from cast members when they asked how many were in her party and she was forced to say 'one' over and over again. By the end of the night, she was exhausted, more emotionally than physically, and starting to doubt whether this had been the right decision after all. She decided to cut out before the fireworks, getting a jump on the crowds that would flood out as soon as they were over, gumming up the transportation works for probably hours afterwards. 

She smiled at the cast members who wished her a good night and trudged up the hill to the monorail station that would take her back to her hotel. She'd thought about downgrading when she canceled the wedding, but like the rest of the trip, she'd decided you only live once, and it was already paid for, so she might as well enjoy it. She'd given up the wedding suite, but her room was still nicer than any she'd stayed in before, so she wasn't complaining. It wasn't like she'd be spending much time in it anyway. Certainly far less than she would have if this was her actual honeymoon. 

She changed into pajamas and collapsed into the king-size bed, sprawling out as big as she could make herself in the center, as if that would make up for its emptiness. Not that she wanted Finn here – that was pretty much the _last_ thing she wanted at this point – but it would be nice to have someone to share the trip, if not the bed, with. 

What she'd discovered, though, when her world had crumbled around her, was that she didn't have as many friends as she thought. When she'd been deciding whether to cancel Finn's ticket or give it away to someone else, she'd realized there wasn't anyone she could imagine inviting. It had been a sobering thought in the midst of an admittedly alcohol-driven decision. (A lot of what had happened in the immediate aftermath of the discovery of Finn's duplicity had been alcohol-driven, and until this moment, she hadn't regretted any of it.)

Come to that, maybe alcohol might help wash away the feelings of disappointment and despair that were starting to creep in around the edges of the 'Everything's fine and isn't this all just hilarious?' mask that she wore, before the cracks became permanent. 

She pulled on a tank top and her favorite pair of jeans and headed for the hotel bar, settling onto a stool and asking for something fruity that would go down smooth, preferably served in either a pineapple or some kind of ridiculous novelty cup, because why the hell not? The bartender laughed. "No pineapples, but you've got a choice of a pearl, a nautilus, a tiki glass, a tiki mug, or a shrunken head." 

"Whatever you think is the best," Clarke said. 

"Coming right up," the bartender said. He came back a few minutes later with a tiki mug, and Clarke thanked him and made sure to slide him a generous tip before carrying the drink out to the pool. With the sun down, it was cooler than she would have considered swimming weather, but there were some kids splashing around as if cold wasn't even a thing they could feel. She smiled at them as she settled into one of the lounge chairs, wondering idly if she would ever have her own children to bring here, and if she did, who would be sitting beside her watching them, glancing over at her and rolling their eyes or laughing at the kids' antics.

She closed her eyes, the better to daydream (was it still _day_ dreaming after sunset?), and decided the alcohol must be having the desired effect as the image of Lexa's long fingers lacing through her own, bridging the gap between their chairs flickered through her mind, followed by a montage of gauzy, soft-focus images of other things Lexa might do with those fingers, and those lips, and...

_You need to get **laid** ,_ she thought, laughing softly to herself as she took another sip of her drink, which really did go down smooth. _And you should have given that bartender a bigger tip..._

* * *

Lexa woke up to the sound of rain pouring down outside, and she almost pulled the covers over her head and went back to sleep, but after a few minutes of arguing with herself, she finally dragged out of bed and through her morning routine. Costia wouldn't let a little rain stop her from having a good time, so neither could Lexa. Lexa had promised she would do this, and so she would, exactly the way they'd planned it. She grabbed breakfast at the hotel before heading to the monorail that would take her to Epcot, where it turned out she wasn't the only one willing – or forcing herself – to brave the weather and early hour. 

She glanced at the itinerary that Costia had so carefully planned for them and headed for the first stop... only to discover that it was having technical difficulties and wasn't running, and they didn't know how long it might be before it was back up, but hopefully soon. "Okay, fine," she grumbled, and moved on to the next step, which at least took her indoors and out of the rain. 

Lexa shivered as the air conditioning, which wasn't really necessary today, wrapped around her in her soggy clothing. She should have gotten out the poncho she'd packed, but some part of her – the masochistic part that felt compelled to keep a promise to someone who wasn't around to hold her to it, dragging herself and her misery to the happiest place on earth – rebelled against the idea, as if it thought she deserved the discomfort. 

_It's not that I **want** to be unhappy,_ she thought, picking up the one-sided conversation that she'd been having with Costia since before she even lost her. _I just don't know how to be anything else anymore._ Not when she was alone, anyway, and not for long even when she wasn't. _I'm trying, love. I swear I'm trying._

But it was so damn hard when every time she saw something that made her smile, experienced something that made her heart swell, she would turn to tell Costia, as she had for years, and be reminded again that she wasn't there, and never would be again. 

She slogged through Costia's list, checking things off one by one, rearranging as needed to accommodate closures due to the rain. Eventually it let up, and the sun started to peek out, and Fast Track finally opened for the day. Lexa slipped into the single rider line, figuring it would be the quickest option. After this, she could move on to the World Showcase, and after a quick trip around the world, call it a day. 

As she inched along, Lexa realized that maybe getting into the line at the same time as everyone else who had been anxiously awaiting the delayed opening of the ride wasn't the best idea. She glanced down at her wrist to see how long she'd been waiting, and nearly facepalmed as she remembered - _again_ \- that she wasn't wearing a watch. Which made her think about the day before, and her encounter with Clarke, and how for a few minutes, talking to her, Lexa had actually been able to put down the weight she'd been carrying with her for eleven months, seven days...

"Lexa!" 

She whipped around and her heart collided with her ribcage. _Speak of the devil..._ But with her blonde hair and blue eyes – the lighting in this queue was a lot brighter than for Space Mountain, and Lexa would actually _see_ the color of her eyes now – and brilliant smile, she certainly didn't look like a devil. Kind of the opposite, really. 

Lexa pressed herself against the railing and motioned for the people behind her to move ahead, which elicited some confused looks and a few 'thank you's before she managed to edge her way back to Clarke was. 

"You didn't have to do that," Clarke said. "I just—"

"I don't mind," Lexa said. "How was the rest of your day yesterday? I loo—" She stopped herself. Maybe she shouldn't admit that she'd looked for Clarke after she'd gotten off the ride, hoping she might catch her and... She hadn't really thought about what might come after that, and it had turned out to be unnecessary anyway, because Clarke had disappeared. 

"It was good," Clarke said. "How was yours?"

"Good," Lexa said, because Clarke didn't want to hear about how she'd started crying so hard during the fireworks that she'd barely seen them through the wash of tears, and parents with small children relocated their families to get away from her barely suppressed sobs. She didn't need to know that she'd gone to sleep with eyes and lungs that felt scraped raw. 

Silence stretched between them, and Lexa found herself missing the easy banter of the day before. "Have you been texting your ex pictures of the awesome time you're having without him?" she blurted, because it was the first thing that popped into her head. Which wasn't usually her style, but she didn't want to have given up her place in line for nothing. 

Clarke laughed. "I should," she said. "Or post them on Facebook or Insta, anyway. I had to block his number because he wouldn't leave me the f—eff alone." She rolled her eyes. "I unfriended him, but I know he still stalks my social media. Here." She pulled out her phone, then wrapped her arm around Lexa and pulled her tight against her side, beaming at the camera and snapping a picture. She laughed when she looked at the screen, and nudged Lexa with her hip to have her move forward. "Okay, maybe this time without you looking vaguely traumatized?" She held up the camera again, and this time Lexa managed a smile before Clarke clicked the button.

"Perfect," she said, showing it to her. "Thank you." Lexa took her elbow to guide her while she quickly posted the picture all over the internet. "Did you want me to send it to you?" Clarke asked, glancing up. 

"That's all right," Lexa said. "I can just..." She looked at Clarke's screen for her username and went into her own phone to follow her. "There." She turned her screen to show her and couldn't help smiling in response to Clarke's dazzling grin. 

"Awesome," Clarke said, following her back. Lexa didn't realize her mistake until Clarke started scrolling back through her pictures, finally stopping when she got to one of Lexa and Costia. It had been taken by a friend at a picnic on one of Costia's last really good days. "Who...?" But Clarke stopped before the question was even fully formed, and she put her phone away. Lexa felt Clarke's fingers brushing her forearm, then twining through Lexa's, clasping their hands together palm-to-palm...

_...and palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss..._

... and Lexa let her, and didn't let go.

* * *

Clarke had spent enough time around oncology patients to recognize a chemo port when she saw one, and the tell-tale signs of someone who was incredibly sick and doing everything in their power to appear otherwise, at least for a little while. The woman in Lexa's arms in the picture had both. She also recognized the look of love and heartbreak in Lexa's eyes as she looked at her, and suddenly Lexa's solo trip, and her unwillingness... or maybe inability... to talk about it, made sense. 

She squeezed Lexa's hand, and felt Lexa's fingers tighten in response. Clarke didn't know what to say, so she didn't say anything at all, but somehow the silence felt okay. When they got to the head of the line, she motioned for Lexa to go ahead of her. "It's only fair," she said. "You waited longer than you had to because of me."

Lexa started to say something, but then she was hustled into a car and zipped away with the words still unsaid. Clarke was put into the next car, but she barely noticed the ride because all she could think about was whether Lexa would be waiting for her at the end. She scrambled out of the car as soon as it stopped, hurrying through the corridors and displays and out into sunshine that had become suddenly blinding. She blinked furiously, fumbling for her sunglasses in her bag. She found them buried at the bottom and slipped them on, finally opening her eyes fully... to find herself looking right at Lexa.

"Oh!" Clarke said. "You—"

"Are you hungry?" Lexa asked. "I have a lunch reservation for two, but obviously there's only one of me, and—"

"I'd love to," Clarke said. 

"You don't want to know where it is?" Lexa asked. Clarke could see the corners of her mouth twitching like she was trying not to smile. 

"Nope," Clarke said. "Surprise me." 

She'd meant with the choice of restaurant, so when Lexa took her hand again, Clarke found herself stunned. Lexa had walked far enough that Clarke's arm stretched out in front of her before she was able to shake off her shock and catch up to her. 

Lexa led her into the World Showcase, veering left after a glance at the signs, past totem poles and pubs, a splashing fountain and intricately woven carpets, finally stopping in front of a large pagoda where women were setting up huge drums on a stage. "I hope you like sushi," she said. 

"Love it," Clarke said. "Really, I just love food. In case you couldn't tell." 

Lexa looked down, letting her eyes travel past Clarke's face to her curves. Clarke wasn't overweight by any definition but Hollywood's and she loved her body... even if it was difficult to find button-down shirts that didn't gap (or pop a button) at the chest. From the way Lexa's cheeks were turning pink, it seemed like she might love Clarke's body too. 

"This way," Lexa said, her voice a little choked. She let go of Clarke's hand as she bounded up the stairs of another pagoda and pulled open a door, motioning for Clarke to go ahead of her. Clarke hung back as Lexa checked in at the hostess stand, and soon they were being guided to a table and offered moist towelettes to clean their hands before being left to peruse the menu. 

"Do you mind if I have a drink?" Clarke asked. "I won't if—"

Lexa shook her head. "I don't mind. Sake?"

"Plum wine," Clarke said. "I don't care for sake. At least not the kind I can afford." She smiled. 

"I've never had plum wine," Lexa said. "Maybe I'll try it." Clarke could see the tension in her hands as she gripped the edges of the menu, even though it was laying on the table, like it might suddenly start flapping its pages and take off in flight, and she couldn't help thinking that a little wine might do her some good. 

_Are you even having fun?_ , she wanted to ask, _or are you doing this to torture yourself for some reason?_

Lexa glanced up at her and forced a smile, dialing up the wattage a little when their waitress came back to take their orders. With the menus gone, she seemed to be at a loss as to what to do with her hands. Clarke was tempted to reach across the table and take them, to turn them over and press her thumbs into her palms, stroke her fingers until they uncurled...

"Her name was Costia," Lexa said softly, and Clarke's head jerked up to look at her face again. Lexa's eyes flicked up and met hers. "We were going to be celebrating our third anniversary this trip." She twisted a ring around her finger, and Clarke wondered how she hadn't noticed it before. Had Lexa been wearing it all along? "Wedding anniversary, I should say. We've – we'd been together longer than that. Ten years, almost."

"Ten... that's a long time," Clarke said. 

"We met freshman year of college. Orientation. Love at first sight, she said, but I don't know if I believe her. I was a hot mess that day." She shook her head. "'Emphasis on the hot,' she would say." A pause, and then, "She made me promise I would come anyway, when we found out... when we couldn't deny anymore... that she wasn't going to make it." Her mouth tilted into a crooked smile that was both genuine and heartbreaking. "She made me promise a lot of things." 

_Like what?_ , Clarke wanted to ask. Instead she said, "I'm sorry for your loss. I can't—" She stopped herself, not wanting to say all of the things that Lexa had probably heard a thousand times before. 

"Thank you," Lexa said. "Planning this trip was... it was what kept her going, for a little while. In the end. She couldn't..." She swiped at her eyes with the corner of her napkin. "I think once she knew she wouldn't actually get to live it, it was the next best thing, you know? So she couldn't... go until she'd planned every last detail. She had it all typed up, color-coded, and when I came home every night, she would show me when she'd decided that day. She had all the guidebooks, all the..." Lexa sniffed, shook her head, put the napkin she'd been twisting between her hands on the table. "I'm sorry," she said, standing up. "I need to—" She turned away, and Clarke nearly knocked over her chair in her haste to catch her, grabbing hold of her arm before she could escape.

"You're coming back, right?" Clarke asked. 

Lexa laughed, but it was a slightly unhinged sound. "I'm not going to dine and ditch," she said. "I haven't even dined yet." She put her hand over Clarke's, pressing it there before peeling it away. "I just need a minute."

* * *

Lexa gripped the sides of the sink and stared at herself in the mirror. 

_What are you **doing**?_, she demanded of her reflection. _She didn't ask for any of this!_

Except technically Clarke had, yesterday, when she'd asked for Lexa's story. But Lexa had brushed it off then, and Clarke had accepted it, so why bring it up now? 

Was she letting Clarke in? Or was she trying to push her away by letting her see what a mess she was? 

Maybe it was both, or neither. Maybe it was just fair warning. 

Maybe she was turning this into a much bigger thing than it is. Maybe it was just lunch.

Lexa groaned, wishing her mind would be quiet, just for a little while, just long enough to let her get through one damn meal without melting down. She turned on the tap and splashed cold water on her face, glad she was still in the habit of wearing waterproof mascara. She dabbed it dry with a paper towel, took a deep breath, and went back out to the table to prove to Clarke that she hadn't been planning to pull a fast one on her and disappear.

She opened her mouth to apologize, but Clarke cut her off. "I waited for you," she said, gesturing to the appetizer they'd ordered to share. "Well, mostly." She lifted her wine glass, which definitely held less than Lexa's. 

"I'm s—"

"Please don't," Clarke said, reaching out and touching her fingertips. "You don't need to. I understand."

Lexa hooked her fingertips with Clarke's, pulling gently because the pressure was comforting, as she took a sip of her wine. The warmth in her chest wasn't just from the alcohol as she smiled in answer to Clarke's expectant look. "You were right," she said. "Definitely better than sake."

"See?" Clarke's eyes lit up. "Stick with me, kid, and I will show you a world of fermented fun." 

Lexa shook her head, rolling her eyes slightly as she picked up one of the edamame from the dish. It forced her to let go of Clarke's fingers, the chilled bean pod feeling even colder after the warmth of her touch. 

"That was _our_ plan," Clarke said. "To drink our way around the world. And eat cake. Drinks and dessert in every country." 

"Sounds like a good way to make yourself sick," Lexa said. 

"You underestimate my intestinal fortitude," Clarke said, smirking. "The alcohol was Finn's idea. The cake was mine. Read into that what you will." 

"Finn is the lying, cheating, son-of-a—"

"Biscuit?" Clarke supplied. "That's the one, yeah. Even so, it might be the second-best idea he ever had." 

"What was the first best?" Lexa asked. 

"Marrying me, obviously," Clarke said, flashing her a wink. "I'm a real catch."

Lexa laughed, and the ache in her chest eased a little. "His loss," she said. "Clearly." 

Their food arrived, and they were quiet as they ate, which left Lexa's thoughts free to roam, and she found herself wondering how Clarke, who was obviously smart, and funny, and beautiful, could be taken in by someone as reprehensible as this Finn character. Which led her to imagining what might have happened if Clarke hadn't found out. Would they be married now? Would they be strolling through the parks hand-in-hand wearing bride and groom Mickey ears? Which naturally had her picturing Clarke in a wedding dress, hair done up with flowers, her eyes sparkling as she walked down the aisle toward...

But then Clarke's face morphed into Costia's and the knife-edge of memory slid right between Lexa's ribs to pierce her heart. They'd actually gotten married twice: the first time quickly at town hall, when Costia had first gotten sick, before she even had a diagnosis, because Lexa's insurance was better and they were pretty sure she was going to need it, and then again a year later in front of everyone, with dresses and flowers and cake and dancing, celebrating not only the two of them as a couple but also the fact that Costia had been declared cancer-free.

It hadn't lasted long, and when it came back, it came back with a vengeance. Costia had fought as hard as she could for as long as she could, but in the end she'd been so tired, too tired, and she'd stopped planning for anything but this trip and started asking for promises instead, and... 

"Hey." Clarke reached across the table and squeezed Lexa's hand. "Lexa." 

"I'm here," Lexa said, gripping her fingers until she meant it. When her eyes finally focused again, there were those lines between Clarke's eyebrows, and she wanted to reach out and smooth them away... or kiss them away... just pull her into her arms and hold her until all the knots in both of them let loose. Instead she just smiled and said, "Thank you." 

"Any time," Clarke said. She released Lexa's hand to go back to her food. "What's on your list for this afternoon?"

Lexa started to reach for her phone to check but stopped herself. She was here to have a good time, wasn't she? That's why Costia had insisted she still make the trip, wasn't it? She wanted Lexa to be happy. She wanted her to find a way back to living. So to hell with the list.

"I seem to remember an invitation to embark on a world tour of cake. Is it too late to accept?"

* * *

"One more for the road?" Lexa asked, tugging on Clarke's hand gently as the monorail glided to a stop at her resort. She didn't remember taking her hand, but at this point, a lot of the details of the day were slightly fuzzy. They'd shared a lot of drinks and a lot of desserts – forgoing a proper dinner in favor of empty but delicious calories – and they weren't stumbling drunk, but they were certainly well into tipsy. Maybe one of them had grabbed the other for balance, or to keep from getting separated, and just never let go. For all Lexa knew they could have been like this for hours. 

Clarke let herself be pulled, bumping into Lexa in a way that Lexa didn't think was entirely accidental. "This is actually my stop," she said. 

"Oh," Lexa said. "I guess that makes things easy."

Clarke smiled at her, and tiny butterflies that Lexa had all but forgotten about woke and started to stretch their wings. Because it _was_ easy, wasn't it? This whole afternoon, once she'd gotten past her midday meltdown, had been easy. They'd laughed and joked, talking a little about their lives back home, about friends and jobs and funny stories about past travel misadventures. Clarke had talked a little about Finn, and Lexa had told her a little more about Costia – it was impossible to talk about her past without mentioning her – but any time things threatened to spiral back into a dark place, they would find something to distract themselves and anchor themselves back in the moment.

More and more often, as the drinks added up, the thing that distracted Lexa was Clarke herself. The way the sun caught in her hair, the brilliant color of her eyes, the curve of her lips... the curves of other parts of her... the way her hand fit just exactly so in Lexa's... But they were just idle thoughts, she told herself. They didn't mean anything.

Only now, as they stepped off the train and onto the platform, walking toward the main building of their hotel with interlaced fingers, the fluttering in her stomach was intensifying, threatening to spill over into her chest, and if it made it that far, it might creep up her spine and into her head and set free the thoughts that she wouldn't let herself think. 

"This way," Clarke said, leading her down to one of the bars. "They make a mean tiki drink here." 

Lexa took a seat beside her, on her left side so that even now she – they – didn't have to let go. "I think I might go for the pearl," Lexa said. 

"Mm," Clarke agreed. "An excellent choice. I might just see what a shrunken head looks like at Disney." 

Lexa laughed. "Is it possible to make shrunken heads family friendly?"

"I think we''ll have to wait and see." They placed their orders when the bartender came over, and then sat in comfortable silence, tired after a long day of walking. The World Showcase loop was more than a mile around, and they'd circumnavigated it more than once. Lexa considered getting out her phone to see how many steps it thought she had taken, but decided against it because it would mean moving and that felt like too much effort. 

Their drinks arrived, and Lexa finally freed her hand from Clarke's to pick it up, not sure she trusted herself to handle the round glass in her non-dominant hand without sloshing. She took a sip and let her eyes close, nodding a little in approval. 

"Good?" Clarke asked, nudging Lexa's knee with her own. 

Lexa nodded, opening her eyes again. "Yours?"

"Yes." Clarke held it up so that the mug could leer at Lexa, and although it certainly had been Disney-fied, it was a little creepier than she would have expected. 

"Are you going to take it home?" Lexa asked. 

"Obviously," Clarke said. "I paid for it, didn't it?" She smiled. "Anyway, it'll be a good conversation piece." The smile slid into a full-fledged grin. "Maybe I'll tell people that it's my ex, and this is what I did to him after I found out he was a lying, cheat, son-of-a—"

"Biscuit!" they said together, cracking up not because it was that funny but because it just felt good to laugh... and to share that laughter with someone else. It had been so long, too long, since Lexa had just let herself have a good time with someone without history hanging over them and pressing them down. 

When the giggles subsided they lapsed back into quiet, sipping their drinks and occasionally glancing at each other and smiling. Clarke's knee bumped against Lexa's more than once, and Lexa finally shifted so that the pressure stayed constant, connecting them to each other. When Clarke looked at her again, her eyes were dark, mostly pupil and Lexa didn't think it was entirely due to the lighting. Clarke leaned in, Lexa did the same, a shiver going through her when Clarke's breath brushed her cheek. 

"Come back to my room with me," Clarke said, her voice a well-lubricated purr. 

"Why?" Lexa asked, needing to ask even though the answer seemed obvious.

Clarke leaned in even closer, breathing the words directly into Lexa's ear now, setting fire to the nerves all down her side. "Because all I've been able to think about since you picked up that drink is what it would feel like to have your fingers inside of me."

Lexa didn't panic. Some small part of her felt like maybe she should, but she didn't. She didn't even hesitate. "Let's go."

* * *

They kept their hands (mostly) to themselves until they were in Clarke's room and the door had closed and locked behind them. Clarke took Lexa's empty cup from her and deposited it on the bathroom counter, then came back to her and tipped up her face, a question in her eyes that Lexa answered by sliding her arms around Clarke and pulling their bodies together, their lips meeting softly, and then not so softly. Lexa could taste the rum on Clarke's tongue, and she kissed her harder, wanting more, wanting to know what Clarke tasted like underneath it. Clarke took a step back, colliding with the wall, which she just used as leverage to press her breasts and hips against Lexa as she slid one hand up under the back of her shirt, then other slipping downward, her fingers nestling into the back pocket of her jeans.

Lexa groaned, edging one thigh between Clarke's legs as she cradled the back of her head to keep it from knocking into the wall. She reached down between them, tugging at buttons and yanking at zippers, fumbling a little because it was her non-dominant hand and maybe she should switch but it seemed a little late for that now. Her fingers brushed against Clarke's belly, making her gasp. "Is this okay?" she asked.

When Clarke didn't immediately answer, Lexa hesitated, her fingertips tracing the elastic of her panties. "Clarke?"

Clarke let out a frustrated whimper as her eyes opened. "What part of all I can think about did you not understand?" she asked, her tone teasing. "The only thing that wouldn't be okay with me right now was if you stopped." 

Lexa laughed, kissing Clarke again, long and deep to distract her as she slipped her ring from her finger and into her pocket before shoving her hand down Clarke's pants. Clarke shuddered as the tip of Lexa's finger nudged at her clit, and pushed her hips away from the hall, squirming and wriggling until she'd worked her jeans down her hips. She rose up on her toes as Lexa, able to move freely now, buried her fingers inside of her just like she'd asked. 

"Oh god," Clarke moaned, grinding into her palm. "Oh god, Lexa, Lexa, god..." Her fingers dug into Lexa's shoulder blade and the small of her back as she clung on, gripping tighter, nails digging into soft flesh when Lexa crooked her fingers, beckoning her, urging her along. Clarke's pants turned to groans, the pitch changing as she got closer, and closer still, and then her thighs clenched and her entire body went taut before she collapsed, relying on Lexa and the wall to keep her propped up as she tried to catch her breath and regain control of her body. "Lexa," she whispered, and it was soft and sweet, and it had been so long since anyone had said her name like that that Lexa's eyes filled with tears that she hastily blinked away. 

She eased Clarke away from the wall, guiding her on wobbly legs to the bed, and Clarke's fingers tangled in her shirt and beltloops dragged her down beside her. It didn't take long for their kisses to heat up again, and somehow Lexa hadn't noticed the Clarke had unhooked her bra until she was pushing it up along with her shirt to nuzzle and mouth at her breasts, teasing her nipples to tender points and flicking her tongue around and against them, leading Lexa to imagine her doing the same a little farther south. As if she could read Lexa's mind, a moment later Clarke's lips were on her ribs and belly, and her jeans were around her hips, then her thighs, and then on the floor, and Clarke's breath was hot against the soggy material of her panties as Lexa spread her legs. "Is this okay?" Clarke asked. 

"Yes," Lexa said. " _Please._ " 

"Well since you asked so nicely..." Lexa's underwear joined her jeans and then Clarke's face was between her legs, lips and tongue working over the sensitive skin so thoroughly, with such alacrity, that Lexa found herself clutching the sheets, her head thrashing on the pillows as she tried not to lose control. But it had been so long, and it felt so good, and eventually she stopped trying and just let go, her back arching off the bed as she came so hard she saw stars. 

Her fingers scrambled to find some part of Clarke to touch, to hold, and she breathed easier when they interlocked with Clarke's, drawing her up into her arms, or maybe she was in Clarke's arms, it didn't really matter which. She nuzzled at Clarke's throat and jaw until their lips met again.

And when their hearts had stopped racing and their breathing calmed, they stripped off what little remained of their clothing and did it all again, slowly, paying attention to every detail. Every curve and crease, everything that made them different and all the ways they were the same. Clarke traced the tattoo that snaked down Lexa's spine; Lexa pressed her lips to the scar on Clarke's shoulder. They learned each other with lingering touches and quick caught breaths, with questioning glances and answering smiles, and kisses, so many kisses that they seemed to have no beginning and no end. 

Finally Clarke nudged Lexa onto her side and curled against her back, one arm draped over her waist, and Lexa closed her eyes, because she was so soft and warm, everything about this moment was soft and warm, and she couldn't remember the last time she'd felt like this. Had she ever felt like this? Had Costia ever held her, or had it only ever been the other way around? Would Lexa have let her if she tried? 

It would have been so easy to just drift off. Too easy. Which was why, when she was sure that Clarke was asleep and wouldn't wake, she slipped out of the bed, gathered her things, and left.

* * *

Clarke stretched, savoring the sweet heaviness that came after a night of amazing sex. And holy shit had it been amazing. She turned to look at Lexa, to smile and wish her good morning, maybe with words or maybe without them... but she wasn't there. Clarke coiled her limbs back in, listening for the sounds of Lexa in the bathroom, but there was only silence.

She sighed. Maybe she should have expected this. Lexa probably just wanted to avoid morning-after awkwardness, although Clarke didn't think it would have been awkward. Even when Lexa had been crying at lunch the day before, it hadn't felt uncomfortable, only intense. If they could get through that...

But they hadn't talked about Lexa staying the night. Maybe she'd thought she wouldn't be welcome. Neither of them was in a place where they were looking for more than a hook-up, after all. Clarke got up and showered, noticing on her way past that Lexa's cup from the night before was still there. She would have to find a way to return it to her, although maybe she didn't want it. It wasn't as cool as a tiki mug or a shrunken head anyway. Clarke climbed into the shower, replaying the night before in her head as she lathered her hair and soaped her body, imagining it was someone else's hands on her skin. 

She climbed out of the tub on legs gone shaky all over again, smiling to herself as she gathered her scattered clothes. As she bent down to retrieve her bra, she saw a glint of something shiny under the bed. She reached for it and picked it up. Lexa's ring. Clarke hadn't even noticed she'd taken it off. She set it on the table by the door so she wouldn't forget it on the way out; the cup might not matter, but she was sure that Lexa would want this back. 

And thanks to their discussion yesterday of Costia's carefully laid plans, she knew exactly where to find her.

* * *

"We need to stop meeting like this," Clarke said, slipping into line behind Lexa. Lexa whirled to look at her, eyes wide, and Clarke instantly regretted not take a more straightforward approach. "Sorry," she said, dropping her voice in both volume and enthusiasm. "I didn't mean to startle you."

"It's fine," Lexa lied, and her smile was so strained it was painful, if not for Lexa than for Clarke, because it tainted the memory of all of the genuine smiles she'd received the day before. 

"I have something for you," Clarke said. She reached into her pocket and drew out the ring. "I didn't want you to think you'd lost it." 

Clarke watched Lexa's face shift from surprise to gratitude before it landed on guilt, and she wondered then if Lexa hadn't even noticed that the ring was missing in the first place. "Thank you," she said, holding out her hand with her fingers splayed. Clarke held the ring between her fingers, ready to slip it on, when both of them realized at the same time how that might look, and Lexa quickly retracted her fingers and flipped her hand over so that Clarke could deposit it into her palm.

"Thank you," she said, closing her hand around it so tight her knuckles went white. 

They didn't talk much because for once the queue moved quickly, and they were loaded on the same train, but different seats, on their adventure to Everest. Clarke wondered if any of the people she heard gasping or shrieking or laughing was Lexa; it felt like she should know her voice no matter what sound she was making, considering the variety of them she'd heard, but she wasn't sure. When they disembarked at the end, she caught up to her, hoping to catch her smiling, hoping she'd enjoyed herself, but her face was blank, bordering on grim, and she only met Clarke's eyes for a second before looking away. 

Clarke dug through her bag, finding a pen and an old receipt, and scribbled her number on it. "I know you've got a plan, and I don't want to get in the way of it. What happened—" Lexa's eyes narrowed slightly, her jaw clenched, and Clarke stopped, holding up her hands in surrender. "No strings attached," she said. "But in case you want company, or need a plus one, or..." She shrugged and held out the paper.

Lexa hesitated, then reached out and took it from her, her fingers brushing Clarke's and lingering for just a moment. "Thank you for understanding," she said softly. "Maybe—" But she stopped herself. "Have a good day." She shoved the slip into her pocket and walked away, quickly disappearing into the crowd that flowed around Clarke as if she was a statue, permanent and immovable. 

She didn't let herself think about whatever possibility that Lexa's 'maybe' had hinted at. She didn't want to let hope take root. But she hadn't failed to notice, as Lexa's hand had so briefly toyed with hers, that her ring finger remained bare.

* * *

Clarke ended up leaving the park at midday, not because she'd run out of things to do (although a good portion of the attractions did seem to be aimed mainly at children) but because she was giving herself whiplash, constantly craning her head around looking for Lexa. She was supposed to be having fun to spite Finn, not trying on a new heartache. So she went elsewhere, and took a ton of selfies to show off just how much fun she was having on her own, and some of the smiles were even real. 

The next day she avoided the park where she knew Lexa would be, because she hadn't heard from her and she didn't want to force something that obviously wasn't meant to be. She didn't know if Lexa regretted what happened, or if she'd just decided that it had run its course, but whatever it was, it was over. 

Which was why her heart lurched when her phone buzzed while she was on the bus back to the hotel and her screen lit up with a text message from an unknown number.

**Unknown:** Can I meet you back at your room?

Clarke was about to reply when another message popped up.

**Unknown:** You still have my cup.

_Oh._

She quickly typed a response. 

**Clarke:** I'm on my way back now. Should be there in 20 minutes or so.

She started to add Lexa as a contact, then realized there was no point. 

**Unknown:** I'll see you soon.

Clarke trudged back to her room, not dreading seeing Lexa again, exactly, but not exactly looking forward to it, either. She turned the corner slowly, bracing herself for whatever her heart (or other parts of her) might do when she saw her. Except when she looked up, Lexa wasn't there. The only thing she saw was a ribbon, or string of some sort, tied to the door handle. She thought maybe it was something from the hotel regarding her ride back to the airport tomorrow, but when she got closer she saw that one end of the string dangled to the ground and continued past the next room, and the next. 

"What the...?" She quickly untied the bow and began to wind the string around her hand, following it away from the building and down a path to the man-made beach that overlooked the lagoon (and about a million signs telling you on no uncertain terms not to swim in it). There were a few clusters of people here and there, but it was after sunset and the evening was promising to be breezy and cool, so it wasn't difficult for Clarke to spot her ultimate destination: Lexa.

Lexa stood up quickly as she approached, brushing sand from her legs, and it was clear she was trying to smile, but it was wavered at the edges and threatened to collapse. "Hey," she said. 

"Hey," Clarke said, wary and wishing she wasn't. "I thought we were meeting at my room?"

Lexa's teeth dug into her lower lip before letting it slide through. "I..." She swallowed. "I haven't been able to stop thinking about you," she said softly. "Since the other night. And I wanted to... to explain. If you'll let me. Maybe you don't—"

"You don't owe me an explanation," Clarke interrupted. "You don't owe me anything. I said no—"

"I know," Lexa said. "I know you said no strings attached. And I know you just got out of... and I know I'm still sometimes... but when I'm with you I feel _alive_ and it's been so long since I could say that, and..." Lexa's throat bobbed again and her jaw worked. "The other night I had to leave. _Had_ to leave, because I didn't _want_ to leave, and that scared me. This all scares me, fucking _terrifies_ me, and I understand if you—"

"Just say it, Lexa," Clarke said, because she didn't know where this was going and she needed to. "Please." 

"What if..." Lexa sucked in a breath and let it out slowly. "I know you're supposed to leave tomorrow, but what if you didn't? What if you stayed... with me?"

The words, though said so quietly there was no chance that anyone but Clarke could hear them, landed with such force that Clarke rocked back on her heels. And then she started to shake, first her hands but then all of her, and she wanted to lean in, to dive into Lexa and her insane proposition head-first, but she couldn't. Not yet.

"Do you have a plan?" Clarke asked. Because if she stayed with Lexa, she didn't want their days to be dictated by the dreams and desires of a dying woman. If she stayed, it couldn't be as the third wheel to a memory. 

Lexa shook her head, frowned, and shook her head again. 

"Good," Clarke said. "Because I do." She took the end of the string that Lexa held from her and looped it around her wrist. "First, we're going to sit right here and watch the fireworks... together." She slipped the loops of string that she'd gathered around her own wrist before tying it into a clumsy, lopsided bow. "Then we're going to follow the path this string led me on back to my room... together... and see where things go from there." 

"Together?" Lexa asked.

"Together," Clarke said. "On one condition."

"What?"

"You don't run away this time."

* * *

_"One more promise."_

_"Anything, my love."_

_When you find the one who makes your breath catch and your heart skip a beat, the one who makes your whole body smile... and you **will** , Lexa, you'll find someone who does all that again, and more... when you find her... you won't let her slip away. Promise."_

"I promise," Lexa said, and let herself be tangled in string as Clarke slid into her embrace, their bodies molding to each other and their lips meeting as the first fireworks exploded overhead. They turned their faces up to look, and if Lexa's eyes were a little damp, well, so were Clarke's, and that was okay. The past would always be there, but now, at least, Lexa could also imagine a future.

* * *

Lexa looked down at the bag Clarke pressed into her hands. "What's this?" she asked. 

"Open it and find out," Clarke said, grinning. "Go on." 

She opened the bag slowly, as if something might pop out at any second, but of course nothing did. When she looked in, the first thing she saw was her name, embroidered on the back of a pair of Mickey Mouse ears. _Rainbow_ Mickey Mouse ears. She shook her head, laughing, as she pulled them out. "I am _not_ wearing these," she said. 

"Yes, you are," Clarke said. "And _I'm_ wearing _these_." She pulled out a pair of ears with a tiara and bridal veil, and, of course, her name, and plopped them on her head. "Because f—eff you, Finn." 

Lexa shook her head but put on the ears because she knew Clarke would pout if she didn't. It was their last day at Disney, and they were trying to make the most of it, after feeling like they'd wasted too much of their first days here faking smiles while wallowing in loneliness. Their only comfort was knowing that this wasn't the end of their story; they'd discovered that they lived close enough to each other that they could at least see each other on weekends and see where this journey might take them. 

"Oh good," Clarke said, taking her by the hand and dragging her over to one of the park photographers, who whipped out her camera and snapped several shots of them with the castle in the background. "Can you do one with my phone, too?" she asked, after the photographer scanned her band (which they both _still_ looked at when they wanted to know the time). 

"Of course," she said, and Clarke came back to Lexa's side, posing for a few more before they moved off to the side so Clarke could see how they came out. 

"Perfect," she said, tapping quickly on her screen. 

A minute later Lexa's phone pinged, alerting her that Clarke had posted a new picture. She brought it up, her heart swelling at the picture, and her throat following when she read the caption: "Fell in love on my honeymoon. Spoilers: It wasn't with the guy I was supposed to marry."

She tapped the like button and started to repost the picture to her own account, then hesitated. It had been eleven months and ten... no...

_Enough,_ she told herself. It had been enough days to finally let herself move on, and she wasn't going to count anymore. 

She posted the picture, took Clarke's hand, and pointed them towards Space Mountain. It didn't matter how long the line was; they would wait as long as it took. Together.

**Author's Note:**

> So maybe it's not your traditional friends-with-benefits type no strings attached story, but hopefully you all enjoyed it anyway!
> 
> Also, to my amusement, I discovered the other day that my manager has both the tiki mug and the shrunken head mug from that bar, which I didn't know until after I'd written this story. It was rather funny to see the shrunken head sitting on his desk filled with pens. *g*


End file.
